


Where The Evening Takes Us

by lordfartquad



Category: The Originals (TV)
Genre: Dive Bars, Drinking, F/M, terrible tacos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 15:05:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6199690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordfartquad/pseuds/lordfartquad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Klamille first date! Involving an art gallery, a dive bar, a taco shop, and a swimming pool at midnight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where The Evening Takes Us

“There’s an art gallery opening this evening, nine o’clock.” His voice was warm on the other end of the line, it always made her flush.  
“And?” she said, waiting for there to be a point in him telling her this.   
“And…I happen to know the gallery will be featuring a few works from a certain little witch. Perhaps even a painting or two from a remarkably handsome hybrid,” he said.  
She laughed a little. “Alright. So…” she trailed, letting silence fill the air, waiting for him to say something.   
“So…” he fumbled for words. Usually they came to him so easily, it was a natural talent for him to be smooth and charming and unflappable. Now, trying to ask her to go with him to the event, trying to formulate the words that would simultaneously imply it was a date if she was interested, and just a casual thing if she wasn’t, he was at a loss.   
“Look, are you trying to ask me to be your date?” she asked after a beat.  
Again, he couldn’t come up with ambiguous wording that would be applicable whether she wanted it to be a date or not. So he just said, “Yes.”  
“Pick me up at nine,” she said, and hung up.   
All evening she fussed over herself, picking different outfits from her closet, arranging and rearranging pieces and accessories, trying to decide what to wear. She spent almost an hour trying to curl her hair into beachy waves that would look like she hadn’t almost spent an hour on them.   
Her first date with Klaus. The thought finally struck her as she was applying her eyeshadow. An actual date. He had even said it was going to be a date. She hadn’t even thought twice about saying yes.  
She thought back to his own gallery showing, when she had said she wouldn’t accompany him because they had a professional relationship, and that she could not cross boundaries into the realm of something more than that. And yet when he had asked her over the phone earlier in the afternoon, the word “boundaries” didn’t even cross her mind.   
And now she was coming up with every excuse to go on this date with him. It would have been so easy to pick up the phone, to say “You know what, maybe this isn’t such a good idea.” The phone stayed where she’d left it on her nightstand. It’s too late to cancel now, she reasoned. It would be rude.   
Two minutes before nine, she heard a knock on the door. Seeing him was like something straight out of a movie: her breath caught in her throat, her heart stopped, her stomach lurched, she stared at him up and down before having to shake her head to get a hold of herself. She hated how cliche she was being. And yet he was too handsome to have any other reaction. He’d combed his hair neatly so that his curls lay flat against his head, he had eschewed his regular jeans and long sleeved henley for a dark blue button down and a black pair of slim fitting slacks. No one could blame her for staring.  
He took her in as well. She was wearing a beautiful dress with large leopard print all over it, cut across the middle with black velvet ribbon. The dress was cut perfectly around her figure, hugging her hips and cutting close to her legs where the hem ended just above her knee. She normally wouldn’t have worn such a thing, especially not such a bold print, but considering it was a special occasion, she decided it was necessary. Animal print is sexy, she had reasoned when she’d picked it out. She hoped he thought she looked sexy, and from the way he was staring, she felt she had succeeded in this goal.   
“Camille,” he breathed. She flushed; she loved when he used her full name. Hardly anyone ever did anymore, which she didn’t mind, that just made it more special when he used it. “You look radiant.”  
“You clean up pretty nice yourself,” she said, giving him another once-over.   
They spent another moment staring at each other, mesmerized by the beauty of one another, before Cami snapped out of it and looked at him expectantly. “Yes,” Klaus covered quickly, “well, shall we?”  
Once she was done locking up the apartment behind her, he extended his arm to her and she hooked her arm through his. They walked down the stairs together and out onto the street. “So where is this gallery?” she asked.  
“It’s a few blocks away.” He looked down at her feet, noticing (or rather re-noticing) her very tall black high heels. “Are you alright with walking?”  
“Yes,” she said. Just walking down the street with him arm in arm made her feel like she was floating on a cloud; she didn’t notice how painful the heels were. Okay, if she was being honest with herself, she totally did, they were already killing her, but she wasn’t about to sacrifice the chance to walk with him like this. So she kept her mouth shut and focused on not letting the pain show on her face.   
The rest of the way to the gallery, they walked in silence. She wanted to say something, and she got the sense that he did too, but she could never come up with anything intelligent or insightful to say. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable but it certainly wasn’t ideal; she wanted to hear about his day, what he did that morning, if he spent any time with baby Hope. She just couldn’t think of a good way to approach those subjects without him being a smart*ss and giving her one-word responses. Even those would have been alright with her though, because she loved to hear him speak. She loved the sound of his voice, his accent…   
They arrived at the gallery fifteen minutes later. Her feet were absolutely screaming in pain but she never let on. If she mentioned it, she was sure he would do something drastic and boneheaded like compelling some poor girl to give up her shoes to Cami, or insisting he carry her around all night. Come to think of it, she probably wouldn’t have minded that, but she was too stubborn to admit that to herself, let alone out loud.   
The inside of the gallery was already pretty full of people, some of whom she recognized. Davina was in a corner, standing by a charcoal drawing she had apparently done, talking excitedly to a few different people. When Cami and Klaus stepped in, Davina waved specifically at her, and then scowled at Klaus.   
Cami laughed. “She’s still mad at you, I see.”  
“Furious,” he said. “I’m positive that she intends to kill me one way or another. She’s a brilliant girl, I’d love to see what she comes up with.”   
Cami rolled her eyes. Leave it to Klaus to get excited about seeing what his enemies had planned for him.   
Still arm in arm, they walked together over to the side of the room where there was a small table with a guestbook, wine, and cheese and crackers. Her stomach was too jittery for food right then, but she gladly accepted the glass of white wine that Klaus offered her. She could use some alcohol.   
After procuring the wine for themselves, they both scanned the room, looking at both the art on the walls and the people filling the room. Cami’s eyes fell upon Marcel, and all the color drained from her face as her caught her gaze. She hadn’t anticipated him being here, she didn't want this to be awkward. After all, they had never really officially ended things between them, they just sort of…stopped.   
Marcel came over to them. The momentary expression of pain that she’d seen cross his face had vanished as he extended his hand for Klaus to shake. He pointedly didn't shake Cami’s hand. “Marcellus,” Klaus said. “Good to see you, as always.”  
“Well, it’s good to be here, to support local artists.”  
While Klaus and Marcel made small talk, Cami quickly downed the entirety of her glass of wine, hoping that drinking it would make her feel less awkward. When she was thinking of how the night would go, she had imagined she would run into people they knew, she had figured at least Rebekah and Davina would be there. But she didn’t think Marcel would be there, and she hadn’t anticipated what she would say to anyone who would ask about her being there with Klaus.  
The question inevitably came up. “I didn’t know you two would be here together,” Marcel said, a cheesy fake smile plastered across his face. “How long has that been going on?”  
Both she and Klaus scrambled for words, trying to downplay it. “It’s just a…casual thing,” she said after a minute. She didn’t want to make a big deal out of it if Klaus didn’t feel the same way, and she didn’t want to hurt Marcel’s feelings further. “Excuse me for a moment,” she said.  
Cami made her way back to the table with the wine and cheese, replacing her empty glass with a full one and taking a big swig of it. From the safety of the table, she watched Klaus and Marcel talking, wishing desperately that she could hear what they were saying. She rarely wished that she could be a vampire or a wolf, but if it meant she would have supernatural hearing in this moment, she would have gladly taken the opportunity if it presented itself.   
Marcel glanced at her, Klaus turning his head to look at her. Her cheeks burned and she felt this queasiness in her stomach that only he gave her; he made her so nervous sometimes. Any way I could chug the rest of this glass and get another one without them noticing? she thought. She decided there was no way she could get away with it, although she desperately wished there was.   
As she crossed the room to rejoin them, her feet screamed in pain from the shoes, and her brain told her to turn around. She knew this night was going to go terribly, she had had this gut feeling when she’d been getting ready. Klaus smiled at her when she came up at his side. “I’ll be right back,” he said, looking towards the door. She followed his gaze to see that Elijah had just walked into the gallery.  
Once Klaus had crossed the room to speak to his brother, Marcel smiled at her. “Look,” he said, “I know this is a bit…awkward. At least, for me it is, I don’t know about you. But I’ve known for a while that you had feelings for each other.” Cami’s cheeks burned even redder when he said this, and she couldn’t meet his eyes.  
“So I just wanted to say that I wish you all the best. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy, and I think maybe Klaus could do that for you.”  
“It’s just our first date,” she said.  
“I know,” Marcel said. “Just trying to cover my bases, if things do go well for you two. No hard feelings.”  
“Thanks, Marcel.”  
He smiled, put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed, and then left her standing alone to go talk to Davina. Cami turned around, expecting to see Klaus still talking to Elijah. Instead she found him merely standing by his brother, but not acknowledging him. He was staring at her intently; it was obvious that he had been listening to every word Marcel had said. And she figured Marcel knew that too.  
The redness that had burned her cheeks now drained away. Klaus had just heard Marcel really lay on the pressure; he had just heard one of his closest friends say that he thought she and Klaus had some sort of future of happiness together. Cami was mortified. As much as she begrudgingly admitted that she did want what Marcel had anticipated for them, it was a lot of pressure to put onto people who were on their first date.   
Slowly she walked back towards the door, where Klaus and Elijah were still standing. He turned to Elijah and said something to him in a low, urgent voice, causing Elijah to crack a small smile. “You needn’t worry about me, brother,” she heard him say to Klaus when she came up beside him once again.   
Elijah’s eyes fell upon her. “Camille, you’re simply breathtaking.”  
“Well, thank you,” she said. “I do try to impress every once in a while.”  
“Always,” he corrected. “But especially tonight.”  
“You’re too sweet, Elijah.”  
“It is a curse sometimes, but one of us has to be the nice, gentlemanly brother around here,” he said, smiling.   
“True,” Klaus said. “Just as one of us had to be the diabolical, despicable brother. So I suppose since you’ve already claimed the Good Guy position, it falls unto my lot that I must be the Bad Guy.”  
“It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it,” Elijah said. “Better you than me.”   
Cami knew he wasn’t kidding, it really was better that he played Good Cop. Because she had heard of some of the things Elijah had done, some of the people he’d killed, and how he’d gone about doing the killing, and that was Elijah In Control. She shuddered to think how he would be if he let go of hardened exterior of routine and control, and really gave in to way lay beneath.   
“I think I’d better go say hello to some people,” Elijah said, looking across the room. Hayley and Jackson were standing by a painting of a capsized sailboat in the back corner.   
Cami wondered if it was really a good idea that he should go talk to them, but decided it wasn’t her place to say anything. If he wanted to cause himself more pain by seeing someone he loved on the arm of another person, who was she to stop him?   
“Are you feeling alright?” Klaus said, studying the expression on her face. “You look a little flushed.” His hand came up, the back of it pressing lightly against her cheek, feeling her skin.  
Embarrassingly, she felt the redness creep back up into her face, settling around the area he was touching. She wished she could control that, she wished it wouldn’t be so obvious to him what she was feeling and thinking. He always seemed to be able to read it in her expression.  
“I’m fine,” she said.   
His hand fell away, and the patch of skin where he’d touched her felt suddenly like ice. Please touch me again, she thought. She would have done anything to get him to touch her again like that, such tenderness and concern. Moments like that always made her question why people saw him as this monster. And immediately after she thought this, she would always remember all the deplorable things he’d done, all the people he’d hurt and killed and betrayed. Thinking about the evil he’d committed usually sobered her up, reminded her that she should stay away from him and ignore the growing feelings for him that were bubbling up inside her. But tonight, she did not think of the bad things, only of the sweetness within him that he seemed to show only to her.   
Klaus’s hand slipped into hers and she felt a warm shiver wash over her. “Let’s go say hi to our friends, shall we?”  
“You have friends?” she asked, giving him a teasing smile.  
He took that in and rolled his eyes up as if he were considering it. “When I say friends, I really mean people I haven’t killed yet,” he joked.   
“Ah, that makes more sense.” He led her around the gallery, stopping to say hello to a few different people that she vaguely recognized but didn’t really know. They made small talk with Hayley and Jackson for a few minutes before moving on. The only person they knew that they hadn’t talked to yet was Davina.  
The witch was standing by her drawing, talking to a young couple who stood close to it, examining the strokes of charcoal on the paper. It was a young man sitting on the edge of a dock, his feet dangling close to the water. Below the waves, a mermaid watched him as he stared off into the distance, unaware of her existence.   
“Lovely work, Little Witch,” Klaus said when he and Cami approached. “Have you ever tried working with oil paints? I could teach you a thing or two.”   
“I’d rather die,” Davina said, her jaw set as she glowered at Klaus. Cami thought of the expression “If looks could kill”— if it were true, she was sure Klaus would be dead on the floor by now.   
“Well, that can easily be arranged,” he said with that crooked smile that made Cami weak in the knees. “But for now, I’d prefer to allow you to live until you prove to be a real threat to me.”  
“Just you wait,” she said through gritted teeth.  
Cami felt like she should stand in between them with a hand on each of their chests, like she was breaking apart a playground squabble between two middle school kids. She smiled awkwardly, trying to break the tension. “We really do mean it, though. This drawing is amazing. I can’t imagine the amount of time you put into it; the detail is amazing,” Cami said, offering up a hopeful smile.   
“‘We’?” Davina repeated. When they’d walked up, the witch had certainly noticed that Cami and he had been holding hands, but Cami supposed Davina had hoped it wasn’t anything serious. But in referring to herself and Klaus as a “we,” she had unintentionally alluded to just how serious she thought it was. Serious enough that she could subconsciously refer to them as a united entity with the same opinion as one another.   
Cami felt Klaus’s hand slip away from hers, a sudden cold emptiness against her palm. She turned to look at him but realized he had vanished. Quickly she scanned the room, hoping he’d just gone to get more wine or to talk to Elijah, but she couldn’t see him at all.   
Davina noticed this too, and took the opportunity to give Cami a piece of her mind. Cami was sure the girl would have done this anyway, regardless of whether Klaus was within earshot or not, but she probably felt safer doing it without him in sight at least. “Cami, what are you doing with him?”  
“I know, I know,” she said. The wine was hitting her a bit now, and her head felt a little fuzzy. “I know it doesn’t make sense, trust me I’ve spent a lot of time trying to figure it out.”  
“No, Cami, you don’t get it. I don’t care how hot you think he is, or how he seems like he’s good around you. The point is that he’s not good around anybody else.”  
“I…I know,” Cami admitted. It was something she’d been wrestling with since she first started to admit to herself that she might like Klaus. Yes, he was kinder and sweeter and caring around her, and she could see the redeemable qualities in him that he hid away from the rest of the world. But she could not reconcile that with all the evil acts he had committed. And that made it very difficult for her to understand how exactly she should be feeling about him, if she should feel any way about him at all. She stared at the floor. “I just couldn’t stop it anymore,” she said so quietly that she hoped Davina didn’t hear.  
“Stop what?”  
“How I feel for him.” With the wine fogging her judgment, lifting her filter, she allowed a thought she’d been long suppressing to come to the surface. That you can’t help who you have feelings for. If you fall for someone who’s good, then you’re one of the lucky ones, but not everyone gets the chance. Good, evil, somewhere in between, it’s all subjective. The important thing was that no matter how bad that person is to the outside world, they are good to you.   
And Klaus was good to her, he treated her with respect, he listened to her when she called him out, he valued her opinion when he disregarded all others, even ones from his family. He trusted her. Seeing that now, putting it into words, she couldn’t help but feel something for him. She had known she felt that way for a long time. But now, admitting it to Davina, this was the first time she truly realized how powerless she was to stop those feelings.   
“I thought you were smarter than this,” Davina said coolly. She was taunting Cami, daring her to walk away from Klaus, to see what a mistake this had been in coming tonight with him.  
“I thought I was too. I guess we were both wrong,” Cami said.   
She stepped away from the girl and her drawing, beginning to head back to the table for more wine when she was intercepted by Klaus. “Sorry for the hasty exit,” he said. “I’m sure you understand.”  
“Understand that she hates you because you killed her first love? Yeah, I get that,” Cami said testily. She was starting to get angry, although at whom she should direct her anger, she had yet to decide: Davina for calling her out, Klaus for ditching her, or herself for finally admitting that she liked him.   
“Oh come on,” he said, a bemused expression on his face. “She’s a child! She will have plenty of loves. And I was really doing her a favor by killing Tim, he was just okay. She could do better. She seems to think my brother Kol had been a step up. Notice how the boy in the drawing looks strikingly similar to him, and the mermaid looks quite a bit like her. Rudimentary and lacking subtlety, but at least it’s obvious.”  
Cami slapped his shoulder like she might have smacked away a child’s hand as it crept under the lid of the cookie jar. “You will not mock her or her art. Davina’s feelings are valid, and she has the right to express them however she chooses. I happen to find her drawing quite beautiful,” Cami said.  
Klaus’s eyebrow was still raised in surprise from when she’d hit him. He raised his hands up in front of his chest in mock surrender. “Relax, relax. I think the girl is rather talented, especially when it comes to shading.” When he leaned in closer to speak next to her ear, her whole body shivered at the touch of his breath on her skin. He said, barely louder than a whisper, “I just like to see you angry.”  
Stars floated across her vision and the room became hazy and unfocused, like she’d had seven glasses of wine to drink instead of two. Everything seemed detached and far away. Her skin was prickling in goosebumps. Every time he got that close to her, every time he said something suggestive like that, she felt as if she might faint.  
It took her a minute to realize that he had moved away from where he’d been standing in front of her, and was walking towards a photograph hanging in a small alcove off to the side. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to go with him, but he looked behind himself and she took that as an indicator to follow him.   
He was standing in front of the photo when she came up by his side. “Tell me what you think of this picture,” he said.  
“Well, I’m no art critic…” she began.  
“You’re smarter than you think, Camille. You don’t have to be an expert to know a little about art. Tell me what you think of it. Please.”  
She stared at the picture, taking in every inch of its saturated colors. It seemed to be from the viewpoint of someone lying on their back, looking up at the night sky. Or more accurately, the early morning sky, when everything was that eerie, smokey grey that made everything feel silent and stifling and still. Encircling the borders of the sky was a grove of pine trees. The photographer must have been lying on their back in a clearing in the woods somewhere, probably the west coast.   
Perhaps the most amazing aspect of the photo, though, was that the sky and the trees were illuminated by a neon bolt of lightning. The forks of the bolt broke the sky into dozens of little grey fragments. “It makes me think of the theme of the sublime,” she said after studying the picture for a long time.  
“Elaborate,” Klaus said.  
“In literature, the sublime was often used in gothic novels to instill both a sense of horror and amazement. It was something found in nature that was so rare and awe-inducing, it was almost supernatural. It was meant to put the fear of G-d into a character’s heart, but also to inspire worship in them because, ‘Hey look at this amazing and scary thing G-d just did!’  
“With the lightning bolt, it brings up a conundrum. Should we fear what G-d, or whoever’s in charge up there, puts out into the world because of its destructive power, or should we bow in awe before its beauty?”  
Klaus didn’t say anything or stop her, so she went on. “I wonder how the photographer feels, especially being on their back, being so vulnerable. Probably fear. That’s how I would feel, at least.” She bit her lip, concentrating hard for a minute. “On second thought, I’d feel awe, I think, because this…this is a once-in-a-lifetime shot, and if I were the photographer, I would feel so humble that I was able to capture it on film.”  
“It was what one would see as a once-in-a-lifetime shot,” Klaus agreed, “but considering I’ve lived hundreds of lifetimes at this point, I’m sure more opportunities will come along. In fact, some already have.”  
“What are you talking about?” She knew the answer to this already, she just wanted to make sure she was understanding what he was saying.   
“I took this picture,” Klaus said. “Not far outside of Portland, about five years ago.”  
“I didn’t know you did photography in addition to painting,” she said. She glanced down at the placard accompanying the photo, noticing that the space beside “Artist:” was blank.  
“I have many talents that I like to keep private,” he said with a crooked smile that didn’t reach his eyes.   
“You shouldn’t keep this one to yourself,” she said.  
“I appreciate that sentiment.”  
“Why didn’t you put your name on this? Don’t you want people to know it’s your work?”  
“I wanted to remain anonymous so that I might hear people’s honest opinions of my work without having their judgment clouded by their personal grievances against me,” he said.  
Her eyes turned back to the picture as she studied it harder. She had always loved that grey that was so hard to describe, the type that hung across the sky on a dreary winter night like a blanket of smoke that had been laid across the heavens. It made her think of staying in bed all day, curled up with a mug of tea and a good book. It made her imagine him being there with her, his legs tangled with hers, playing footsie while she tried to read.  
Cami felt the sensation of lightheadedness that she’d had before, and noticed it was because Klaus was leaning in close to her ear once again. “I really do have more photos,” he said, his voice low. “I want you to see them sometime.”  
Her mind was racing, trying to make sense of it. He wanted to keep his other photos private from others and yet he wanted to share them with her? Did that mean he thought she was special, that maybe he trusted her? The colors of the picture started to float before her eyes and she felt like she might really pass out this time. Her knees wobbled and she thought, Oh G-d, this is it, I’m really going to swoon for Klaus Mikaelson.   
She focused on breathing deeply and evenly, and eventually felt steadier on her feet. Her vision became sharper so that she could pay attention again, and noticed that he was expecting an answer to his invitation for her to see his photos. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, I’d love that. More than anything.”  
The corners of his mouth twitched up for half a second into a small smile. If Cami hadn’t been so focused on him, still trying to keep her balance, she would have missed it. She struggled to suppress the intense urge to kiss him; the way he looked so proud of his work, how excited he was to show her, it was almost impossible to stop herself from grabbing his face and pulling him to her.   
And then he was asking her something, he expression expectant. And she had totally not been listening, she had been staring at his lips the whole time. “I’m sorry, what?”  
“I said do you want to get out of here?” he said.

“Oh.” It took her a second to gather her thoughts and really take in what he’d just said. “Yeah, yeah, of course. Where did you have in mind?”  
“You’ll see,” he said, with that devilish smile she hated so much. He took her hand and they left the alcove, reemerging into the main atrium of the gallery. They didn’t say goodbye to anyone, just left and walked out into the cool night air. The street was coming alive with people going to bars and clubs, or just conversing with people they’d bumped into on the way out. Their chatter filled the air, giving it an electric buzz of livelihood. Jazz musicians playing all types of instruments, solo or in groups, played on each street corner, collecting spare change and dollar bills in their upturned hats or instrument cases. She loved this city so much, she loved how even on her darkest days, she could go outside and find the inspiration to keep going. Because there was always beautiful art to see, or new music to hear, or if all else failed, new bars with new drinks to drink.  
After a few blocks of walking, Klaus turned abruptly down an alley, dragging her with him. “Is this the part where you murder me in a gruesome and sadistic manner?” she said, only half joking.  
“If I’d wanted you dead, I assure you that your heart would have stopped beating a long time ago.”   
She wasn’t sure how to interpret this. In spite of herself, she felt flattered that he’d said that, because he wanted so many people dead, and she considered herself lucky that she wasn’t among them. And then she felt embarrassed that she had normalized his behavior enough that she felt thankful he hadn’t murdered her. Worst of all, perhaps, she could not stop herself from thinking that her heart did stop beating, every time he looked at her.   
Inside the alley was a small outdoor seating area populated with people laughing and drinking. Klaus led her inside the brick building just past the tables, and they stepped inside what seemed like a dark dive bar. Over in the corner, someone in a plaid shirt and cowboy hat had the karaoke mic and was signing a country song very poorly.   
Cami laughed and covered her ears against the offensive sound. “What is this place?”  
“One of my favorite bars, besides yours, of course,” he covered quickly. “It’s called Gutterhound. Famous for their large boot-shaped beverage containers.”  
He went up to the bar and greeted the bartender like an old friend. “Edward, this is my…this is Cami,” he said, gesturing to her.   
Edward the bartender shook her hand. “What can I get you? Anything you want, on the house.”  
Klaus looked at her expectantly, but she didn’t know what to say. “Two boots, please,” he said after a prolonged silence. A minute later, Edward procured two giant boot-shaped glasses, filling them with an obscene amount of liquor and then adding some combination of flavored purple syrup, and soda. A tiny umbrella and a straw in each, and Edward pushed the glasses towards them.  
Cautiously, Cami took her first sip. “Sweet Jesus,” she said, grimacing. “Whatever you do, do not let me drink this whole thing. Or we’ll have a repeat of Halloween 2011.”  
Klaus smiled, drinking his as if it wasn’t eighty-five percent cheap vodka. “Oh? Do tell that story.”  
“Well, I had about seven shots of tequila within an hour, on minimal food and no water. I threw up in the street, I threw up all over my friend’s bathroom, I threw up on my friend… Not pretty.”  
He laughed. “Yes, let’s try to avoid a repeat of that incident. I’ll keep an eye on you,” he promised, “make sure you’re drinking responsibly.”  
“Thanks, Mom,” she said sarcastically. “I think I can handle myself, but just in case, it’s not a bad idea to have a babysitter like you.”  
She attempted to take another sip of her drink, but it was so strong that she wasn’t sure she could even take another drink, let alone drink enough to get her as bad as Halloween 2011. “What exactly is in here?”  
“You don’t want to know,” he said. He was probably right.   
The country yodeler had finished their turn on karaoke, and it seemed as if there might be an open slot. “You gonna go up there and show off your chops?” Cami asked teasingly.  
“I have learned many skills over the years, but singing is one I could never get the hang of. Consider yourself lucky, I might make your ears bleed.”  
“So I’ve finally found something that Klaus Mikaelson isn’t good at.”  
“Don’t let my enemies know,” he joked.  
“Oh yeah, if any of them ever challenge us to go on American Idol, we’re in real trouble.”  
“What about you? Why don’t you get up there?”  
“Well, I’ll have you know that I was in choir in middle school, and I sang a song in the seventh grade talent show,” she said proudly.   
“I’m impressed. You could probably be a professional.”  
“It’s pretty likely that I could be the next Beyoncé,” she said with a laugh.  
“Well then, by all means,” Klaus said, gesturing towards the corner of the room with the microphone. Just then, someone else walked up and began to sing a pop song that had been popular in the early 2000s.   
“Oh, bummer,” Cami said. “Better to let this person have their moment to shine. I don’t want to upstage anyone, make them look bad with my amazing talent.”  
“Perhaps if I fail at my babysitting duties and let you have too much of this drink, you’ll grace us with this talent of yours.”  
“We’ll see,” she said, smiling. Was this flirting? She felt like it was. A blush rose in her cheeks, and she scrambled for a way to change the subject. “So I told you about the Halloween 2011 incident, now you have to share an embarrassing drunk story with me.”  
His eyes rolled upwards as if he were racking his brain really hard for the perfect story to tell. “In the 1780s, I was living in Paris. After a night of heavy drinking, I got into the wrong carriage by mistake. Instead of taking me home, I wound up in Vienna. Not only that, I wound up in Vienna onstage during a symphony performance. No idea how I got into the theater, let alone who let me on the stage. Someone had propped me up in the back with the percussion, and when I came to, I had just enough wits about me to hit the gong a couple times and hope for the best.”  
“Hm,” she said, smiling in bemusement.   
“And I fit right in, even though I had no idea what I was doing, because the conductor was one Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. And he had only finished that symphony the day before, so pretty much everyone in the orchestra was sight-reading this music for the second or third time ever, right on stage during the premier. So no one else had any idea what they were doing either.”  
“You mean to tell me that you accidentally wound up in a performance by Mozart?”  
“I did indeed,” he said, smiling too. “1785, that was a good year. At least, from what I can remember of it. There was a lot of wine-induced memory loss that year.”   
“So if I go up there right now,” Cami said, gesturing back to the karaoke area, “you’d be able to provide some sick beats for me?”  
He laughed; she loved the line that his neck made when he threw his head back in laughter. “Music in general was never my strongest suit. But when it comes to the lesser of two evils, I’d rather subject you to my abysmal percussion skills than my singing. Let us simply hope that I hold onto my sobriety well enough so that you will have to endure neither.”  
“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see where the evening takes us,” she said with a smile. She noticed a hint of blush creep into his cheeks, and she felt her own cheeks go red at this. Get a grip on yourself, she thought.   
She drank a large gulp of purple liquid from the boot, once again feeling the bitter and burning reminder of just how strong the drink was. “Perhaps I should get a glass of water to go with this,” she said.   
“No, no,” Klaus said, waving his hand at her. “You don’t need water. Tell you what, Camille. I will match you, drink for drink. That way, I will be just as drunk as you.”  
“This seems like a terrible idea,” she said.  
“Deal?” He extended his hand to her. His palm felt warm against hers, and his grip lingered a moment longer than it needed to.   
“Deal,” she said. Just to test the theory, she raised her drink and put the straw to her lips, sipping the purple drink. Klaus did the same, putting the lip of the glass to his mouth and swallowing some of the drink. “What happens to the person who loses this wager?”  
“He or she has to sing a song for the other,” Cami said. Oh G-d, she really hoped she wouldn’t end up losing.   
“So,” she said, “You’re a painter, you’re a photographer, you’re a supreme percussionist.” He smiled broadly when she said this. “Any other talents I should know about?”  
“Well, I don’t want to toot my own horn—”  
“Oh yes, the ever-humble Klaus Mikaelson,” she interrupted, teasing.  
“Hey, you are the one who asked, love. If you don’t want to hear about how great I am…”  
“Go on and tell me how great you are,” she said. Although she couldn’t stop the thought that crept up in her mind, I already know how great you are.   
“Alright, if there will be no more interruptions.” He raised an eyebrow expectantly at her to see if she would say anything else. “I used to be a very talented archer, although there’s not much use for that nowadays. And I was a pretty talented equestrian before cars became popular.”  
“Oh really? What discipline did you do?”  
“I tried my hand at them all,” he said. “I did foxhunting, I raced with my friends, I did some jumping here or there.”  
“I used to take lessons as a child,” she said. “I was pretty good, for an eight-year-old. I even got a blue ribbon once at my barn’s little horse show.”  
“Ah, it seems you have some hidden talents too,” he said.  
She laughed, covering her face with her hand. Oh no, I only laugh like this when I’m tipsy, she thought. Am I tipsy? Oh my G-d oh my G-d oh my G-d. She took her hand away, the smile disappearing from her face. She tried to maintain a serious look; if she could just keep up a serious facade, maybe he wouldn’t notice that she was already well on her way to being drunk. She would have to pace herself with the drink very carefully from then on, and she’d only had a quarter of it. “Well, I stopped riding when I was ten. I wanted to focus on dancing.”  
“Dancing,” he said with surprise, his eyebrows rising. “Perhaps I’ll get to see some of your skills this evening.” He gestured over to the far side of the bar, where the lights were dimming. The person singing karaoke had gone out onto the floor to move tables and chairs with some other patrons, clearing the floor for more space as some Top 40 song came on over the loudspeakers throughout the bar.   
They both watched for a moment, mesmerized as people began to fill the floor, dancing closely together with each other. Cami took another drink, and he matched her. “Well, I might dance…if I’m asked properly,” she said.   
“Camille, would you do me the honor, and let me have this dance?”  
She extended her hand to him and he took it, leading her over to the area where everyone was dancing. At this point, she felt the line blur between tipsiness and drunkenness. Her brain was foggy, she was sure her cheeks were red. She moved her tongue around in her mouth; her teeth felt numb. That was always her tell. If her teeth felt numb, then she was definitely drunk. Maybe he couldn’t tell yet. She prayed he couldn’t tell yet. Or at least that maybe he was getting drunk too.   
He spun her around once, and then brought her in close, one arm around her waist and his other hand clasping hers. They swayed back and forth as if this were an old high school dance. It took every ounce of self control in her to keep herself from resting her head on his shoulder.   
The song ended and another faded into it seamlessly. She wanted to stay with him like this forever. Because even though they were surrounded by people, even though she could feel people bumping into them, hear them talking loudly, laughing, it felt like it was only the two of them. The acrid smell of stale beer from the bar faded away until the only smell that filled her nostrils was his cologne.   
Cami became acutely aware that she was getting warmer by the second, that her palm felt sweaty in his, and she felt embarrassed. And as much as she loved dancing with him like this, moving slowly while the world around them was fast, she wanted him so much closer. She spun out of his embrace, moving her hips, running her hands through her hair. She closed her eyes and let the beat of the music fill her, live inside her, guide her movements.   
Even with her eyes closed, she knew he was watching her intently, studying how she moved. She secretly hoped that she was impressing him. After a night all about his secret, astounding talents, she desperately wished that he would think she was talented at something too.   
And then she felt him come up behind her, his hands on her hips, moving with her. It nearly knocked the breath out of her, she felt like her head was drowning in the grey smokey sky that had been in his photograph. She could barely get a breath in her, but if this is what it felt like to have his body this close to hers, she never wanted to breathe again.   
She wished desperately that she hadn’t worn such a tight dress or such high heels, they were making it harder to dance. But to be fair, she’d had no idea that they would end up here, dancing like this. Somehow she doubted it would be too difficult for her to manage.   
Songs faded one into another, and she was losing track of time. She was losing track of everything. How long had they been dancing? How much had she drunk? Did she even know the name of the bar they were in? Everything felt so confusing, like the room was spinning and she didn’t even know who she was, but she felt so safe with him.   
The thought struck her and she felt herself regaining her senses. Safe with Klaus Mikaelson, the smartest, the strongest, the baddest? She was sure no one had ever thought of him as safe company before. So she couldn’t tell if that meant that she was special, or just that she was losing her mind. And that scared her.   
Closing her eyes, she focused again on the beat of the music, the rhythm of his hips moving with hers. She felt a tug on her waist as he spun her around in his arms so they were face to face. Her arms naturally found their way to his shoulders, wrapping around his neck. She looked down, watching the way their two bodies moved together, the natural rhythm that happened so effortlessly between them.   
When she looked up again, he caught her gaze, his eyes burning into her. Subconsciously, her lips parted; he was so, so close, and it would be so easy. It would be so easy to just close that infinitesimal distance between them, to do what she’d wanted to do for a long time now, to kiss him. And maybe if she was lucky, he would kiss her back.  
He was the first to break eye contact, but only for a fraction of a second, only to glance down at her lips. She willed herself to do it. Just grab his stupid face and kiss him! her head screamed at her.  
A cold draft hit her body as he stepped away suddenly, looking at the floor. “I need another drink,” he said. And then suddenly he was all the way across the room at the bar, taking a long swig from the boot.   
She felt her own buzz beginning to wear off but gave him a minute to himself. Besides, her skin was breaking out into goosebumps— a result from the lack of warmth of his body up against her— she wanted to take a moment to at least get rid of those before she went over to him.   
When she approached him at the bar, she couldn’t think of anything to say, so she just took another drink from her own boot. As the liquid traveled down her throat and hit her stomach, she heard and felt an embarrassing rumble that she was sure he noticed. She hadn’t really eaten much that day, the nerves making her stomach uneasy. Perhaps that was why the alcohol was hitting her so hard. But she needed food, and soon.  
“Hungry?” Klaus said.  
“Famished. And I know just the place to go.”  
“Do tell.”  
“It’s a surprise,” she said. “You’ll see when we get there.”   
“I’m a bit frightened,” he said.  
“You’ll live.”   
He laughed and she felt her knees buckle a little. His smile just made her feel like melting into a puddle on the floor. He took one last long drink from his boot, looking at her expectantly. She remembered then that as per their deal, she was supposed to be matching him, so she too raised the boot-shaped glass to her lips.   
Now that she was a little drunk, the strong liquid tasted slightly less foul, but it was still difficult to take drinks as big as his. He set his glass on the bar, and she gratefully did the same.   
Outside, the night air was refreshing and alive. The street was buzzing with voices, people talking and laughing, street musicians playing trumpets and saxophones, a few street performers doing magic tricks for easily-impressed drunk folks. “I love the city at night,” she said with a sigh. “It just feels so…”  
“Alive,” he filled in.  
“And to think that you built it from the ground up,” she said, suddenly letting that sink in for a minute. How could someone so terrible, so evil and monstrous, possibly have built a city as magical and captivating as New Orleans? Once again, she could not reconcile the Klaus that everyone warned her about with the one she saw before her.  
“Careful, love. I’ve already got a massive ego, no need to add to it.”   
They walked together down the street, walking close together but not touching. I have to be strong, I will not take his hand unless he takes mine first.   
After a few blocks, Klaus asked again, “Where exactly are we going?”  
“You’ll see,” she repeated. “Be patient. It’s just a few more blocks. But for now enjoy the journey.” She gestured around her, taking in the sights and sounds of New Orleans at night. Even though the different jazz musicians out and about were playing conflicting songs, it still sounded beautiful. She loved that, when two things that didn’t seem to go together could still make a new kind of sound, a new kind of art.   
At the end of the street, she tugged on his shirt sleeve. “This way,” she said, turning right onto a small side street. They walked to the end of the block. When she stopped it was so sudden, that he kept walking a few steps past her. She stared at the facade of the building, a smile creeping onto her face.   
“Paco’s Tacos,” he read the sign on the door.   
“Yep,” she said, smiling proudly. “This is it!”  
He seemed hesitant, and his hesitation wasn’t entirely unfounded, she acknowledged. Paco’s wasn’t exactly a classy establishment. It was a place where drunk kids went after midnight to get cheap and fast food because most everywhere else was closed. It wasn’t somewhere a person would go if they had other options, or if they were sober.   
He opened the door and held it for her as she went inside and joined the rapidly growing line of college kids. Most of them were just making a pit stop in between house parties and bar hopping, so they were taking their orders to go.   
“What’s good here?” Klaus asked, looking up at the menu boards behind the counter.  
“Almost nothing,” she said.  
He laughed at this, but she hoped he realized that she was being serious. It was lucky that she’d had more of her boot drink before they left, because if she hadn’t she certainly would not be drunk enough to endure a taco from this place. “Just stick with chicken,” she advised.   
After fifteen minutes, they had finally reached the registers. The ever-growing line was slowly dwindling as people went about their drunken nights feeling better now that they’d eaten. “Two chicken tacos, please,” she said.   
When she handed over the cash she owed, Klaus put up a hand in protest, intending to pay himself. “Save it, Casanova. I’m a woman of the modern age,” she said with a smile. She got her change and they went to sit down at one of the rundown tables.   
The charm of the place was in how decrepit it was. While some of the tables had proper chairs, some were mixed in with plastic ones that a person might buy for three dollars at Target. The table surfaces themselves were filthy, but no one seemed to notice or care. When Klaus sat down, he tried and failed to mask a look of slight disdain. “How quaint,” he said.  
“Oh come on,” she teased, “loosen up a little. This is part of the atmosphere.”  
“Exposing myself to a variety of communicable diseases is atmosphere?”  
She gave him a deadpan look. “You’re immortal, remember? I highly doubt you could catch anything.”  
“You’re right, I suppose I’ll live. But I might suffer in the process.”  
“Just eat.”   
She watched intently as he took the first bite of his taco, trying to gauge his reaction. He set it down, raising an eyebrow. After he had chewed and swallowed, he said, “It’s not terrible.”  
“See?” she said with a smile. “Would I lead you astray?”  
“I don’t know, Camille. You tend to be full of surprises.”  
She blushed and looked away when he said this, trying and failing to focus on her food. She loved when he said offhand compliments like that, so subtle yet so sincere.   
“So what made you choose here, of all places?” he said.  
“I used to come here all the time when I was still in college. I’m actually having deja vu like crazy right now, just remembering all the nights I came here with my friends or my roommates, all the shenanigans we got into on those nights.”  
“Like Halloween 2011?”  
She laughed. “Yes, like Halloween 2011.”  
“And so far are you feeling like the night will end slightly better than that incident?” he asked.  
“I’m doing alright, a bit drunk,” she admitted, “but still functional.” That last slug of the drink from the boot was settling in nicely now, making the taste of the mediocre tacos more tolerable. “And how about yourself?”  
“Oh, I’m doing just fine, love. Just intoxicated enough to make these vile excuses for tacos edible.”  
She laughed again. “Don’t be mean about Paco’s. It’s the quintessential college drunk food experience.”  
“Perhaps that’s why I don’t particularly enjoy it,” Klaus said. “Considering I’ve never been to college.”  
Cami was surprised to hear this. She had sort of assumed that, and she knew that he’d never gone to college somewhere in the back of her mind, but she’d never really given it too much thought. It made her kind of sad that he’d missed out on a lot of experiences that some people considered essential to growing up.   
“Well, fine then, Mr. Picky Pants, is there somewhere else you’d like to go?”  
He smiled wickedly and she felt her stomach drop into her feet. “Why, yes, in fact there is.” 

The air was sticky and humid as they left the shop, leaving behind most of their tacos as well. But Cami was too intrigued as to where they might go to be worried about wasting the food.   
They walked for a few blocks without saying anything; she knew better than to ask where they were going. She knew the response she would get would be, “You’ll see when we get there.” So she just kept walking beside him, hoping they would be there soon. The humidity was starting to make her hair frizz, and she was sweating a little. She hoped he didn’t notice.  
After a few more blocks, he pulled her into another alley. This time, unlike how the previous alley had hidden Gutterhound, the bar, this one had nothing but a dumpster. “Ok, for real, are you going to murder me this time?”  
He smiled. “Haven’t we already been over this?”  
“Yes, but the fact that you keep bringing me into dark and somewhat creepy alleyways still gives me the intense gut feeling that you’re going to do something terrible to me.”  
“And here I was, about to ask if you trust me.”  
“If I trust you?” she repeated. He nodded. “Y-yes,” she stammered. “I do.” And she really meant it; it was just the creepiness of the alley that made the words come out funnily.   
Klaus turned his back on her. “Get on,” he said.  
“You want to know if I trust you so you can give me a piggyback ride?” she asked. “I can handle walking, my feet are holding up fine.” That was a lie— the shoes had been killing her off and on all night. Her level of pain all depended on how intoxicated she was at the moment. Just then they weren’t terrible, but she knew if she didn’t get another drink in her soon that she might be walking barefoot by the end of the night.   
He turned around and gave her a look that said she was completely daft. “Where we’re going, we’d need to drive. And considering both of us are not sober, vamp speed is the second best mode of transportation. So, if you please…” He turned back around, his arms out around his sides, ready to catch her.  
She rolled her eyes when he wasn’t looking. She couldn’t believe she was about to do this. She couldn’t believe she was about to do this without even knowing where they were going. But she still stepped up to him, her hands on his shoulders. “Ready?” she said.  
“Yes.”  
Praying she wasn’t going to break an ankle by jumping in this shoes, she gave a little hop and wrapped her legs around his waist as he hooked his arms under her knees. He swiveled his head, looking at her out of the very corner of his eye, wearing that stupid smirk she both loved and hated so much. “Turn around,” she said, unable to mask the smile on her face.  
“Are you ready?” he said.  
Her stomach was churning already, partly because of the alcohol, partly because she was nervous from being so close to him. “Yes,” she said shakily.  
The city began to fly by them in a flash of continuous lights. It was as if the sights before her eyes were just a tape recording that was on fast forward. The air, previously so humid and hotly heavy against her skin, was cool as it passed by her, flying through her hair. It was a whole new way to see things, and she couldn’t help but feel exhilarated to see things the way Klaus often saw them.   
As they left the city, the lights grew dimmer and farther between until they were out closer to the country and the bayou. And just as suddenly as they had begun, they stopped.   
Klaus set her down carefully, his left hand skimming along her leg as she slipped off his back. The inertia hit her then, and she felt that sick queasy feeling, like she had been swimming all day and still felt like she was in the water even though she’d been out of the pool for hours. As she tried to calm her stomach, she gained her bearings and looked around. “The plantation house?”  
He nodded, wearing an expression that said he hoped she was impressed. Her mind started racing, trying to figure out why he would bring her here. Was it so he could seduce her? She wasn’t sure how to feel about that idea. Of course she wanted it, of course she had fantasized about sleeping with Klaus many times, but she wasn’t so sure she’d wanted it to happen this way, especially not when she was somewhat drunk.   
“Wow, okay,” she said, fishing for words. “The plantation house. That’s uh…yeah, I’ve been here a bunch of times.”  
“Yes, I am aware,” he said. “If there’s somewhere else you’d rather go…”  
“No, no, just…curious, I suppose,” she admitted. He started walking towards the house and she followed.  
“About?”  
“What…uh…did you have any special reason for bringing me here, of all places?” That was the best way she could think to phrase the question without outright being like, “Did you bring me here so you could sleep with me?”  
Looking back at her as they neared the house, he smiled. “I thought we could go for a swim.” He veered off to the left of the front of the house, and she struggled to keep up as they walked through the grass and her heels sunk in.   
Around the back of the house, everything was dark, but he quickly hopped up the deck and flipped a switch on the outer wall of the house. The pool lit up in undulating waves of blue and white, throwing glowing shadows dancing across both of them.   
Her stomach tightened and she felt her blood run cold when he came back down beside the pool and began to unbutton his shirt. She couldn’t help but stare as he took off the shirt, tossing it to the ground. The rippling light danced across his chest, and it took every ounce of restraint she had not to reach out and run her hands all over him.   
There was a table and a few chairs a few feet away from where they stood, and he sat down there to take his shoes and socks off. She sat across the table from him and took off her own shoes. Cami had to consciously try to control her facial expression so she wouldn’t let on the immense relief she felt by taking them off. The cool concrete was so soothing against her aching feet.  
Klaus stood, and she felt even more nauseous, because now he was just down to his pants, and she was sure he wouldn’t go swimming in them. Sure enough, his hands reached for his belt and started to unbuckle it. Her heart was hammering between her ears, and she felt so embarrassed because she knew he could hear. But he didn’t wear that smug grin he normally would have, and she was so grateful for that. She hoped he didn’t give that cheeky smirk because he was just as nervous as her.   
His belt undone, he reached for the button of his pants, but was watching her expectantly. She realized with a jolt that he was waiting for her to undress as well. In a rush, her hand reached up behind her, trying and failing to grasp the tiny, impossible zipper of her dress. Her fingers were sweaty, and the minuscule metal kept slipping from her grasp, getting her nowhere. Tried as she might, she just couldn’t get a good hold on the zipper, and it remained unmoved.   
She turned around and felt him come up behind her, moving her hair over one shoulder to get it out of the way. As the zipper slid down her back, she felt a shiver run up her spine, in part from the cool night air. But she knew that her skin had broken out into goosebumps because she felt his hands on her shoulders, slipping under the shoulders of her dress and pushing them off. She took her arms out, and the fabric dropped to the ground around her ankles.   
Silently, she cursed herself for her lingerie choices. For her, it was much more important to wear her favorites, regardless of whether they matched or not. Tonight she was wearing a plain red bra, and mint green lace hipster panties. She wished that she’d matched, or at least picked a fancier bra or something. If she had only known the night was going to go this way…  
Turning around to face him, she couldn’t meet his eye. She could feel him staring at her up and down, and she self-consciously crossed her arms over her stomach. When she looked up, he was moving away from her, walking towards the main steps into the pool. A few feet away, he unzipped his pants and stepped out of them, revealing a pair of black boxer briefs.   
She watched, entranced as he slowly stepped into the water. Every part of him was mesmerizing: the way his shoulders sloped down from his neck, the curve of his collarbones, the musculature of his chest and stomach, his innie belly button, his shapely legs. Her cheeks flushed—she knew he was watching her watch him. And he was watching her for herself, studying her body just as she had studied his.  
It wasn’t that she was particularly embarrassed of her body; it was just that she knew if he kept looking at her like that, she would not be able to stop herself from absolutely throwing herself at him. And so Cami did the only thing she could think of to get him to stop looking at her body.   
Slowly, she walked over to the diving board at the deep end of the pool, stepping up onto the cold, springy plank and walking to the end of it. Her stomach was in knots, and she hoped the water would be cold enough to shock her and get her to calm down. Cami gave one small bounce on the springboard before she leaped into the water, jumping feet first straight down.   
The water was as cold as she’d wished for, and it made the skin on her arms break out into goosebumps all over again. It closed in around her, wrapping her up in a chilly envelope of calm. She took a moment to herself down there, letting the water really soak into her, taking the time to try to collect herself.   
When she resurfaced, he was still watching her intently. She brushed her hair out of her face, wiping at her eyes to make sure her makeup wasn’t running. It was a little bit, but her mascara didn’t budge, so it really wasn’t all that bad. After a couple of swipes with the back of her hand, she’d wiped away the smudges of eyeshadow, and then swam over to where he was.   
Where Klaus was standing, the water was only up to his mid-chest. She loved the way his skin glowed from the lights in the pool, the undulating waves of blue and white playing against his alabaster skin.   
Cami stood in front of him and shivered when he reached out to touch her, swiping away the remaining smudge of makeup from her cheek. “Are you having a nice evening, Camille?”  
He hadn’t taken his thumb away from her cheek, and she was sure she was blushing profusely now. “It’s been great. Are you having a good time?”  
“The best,” he said.   
A splash of cold water hit her in the face, and then another as he splashed her. “No fair!” she said. “I wasn’t ready!”  
Klaus just kept splashing more cold water at her until she splashed back, soaking his previously neatly combed curls. They continued this water fight for several more minutes, each of the totally drenched when Klaus held up his hands in surrender. “Pause! I call a truce.”  
She agreed reluctantly, wiping the water that he’d splashed on her out of her eyes. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so hard, or smiled so much, or felt so happy.   
He turned towards the stairs to the pool, saying, “I’ll be right back,” over his shoulder. He got out of the water and opened the seat of a bench on the deck, extracting a towel and wrapping it around himself before going into the house. She watched him, appreciating the way the water made the fabric of his boxers cling to his backside.  
She swam over to the edge of the pool, laying her arms on the concrete, resting her head on her forearms. He came back a few minutes later, holding a couple of items. He handed her the one in his right hand. She studied the bottle of whiskey before uncorking it and taking a pull straight from the bottle.  
He sat down at the table, and she realized the items in his left hand had been a lighter and pack of smokes. He put a cigarette to his lips, taking a pull as he lit it, blowing the smoke into the air.  
“I didn’t know you smoke.”  
“Oh no, not since the sixties,” he said with a grin. “Only very very occasionally now. It just felt right, I guess.”  
Cami set the whiskey bottle on the pool deck, and then placed her palms flat on the concrete as she pushed herself out of the water. She walked over to the table. “Can I have one?” she said, holding her hand out expectantly. She didn’t normally smoke either, but he was right, it just felt fitting for some reason.   
He reached into the pack and pulled out a cigarette and was about to hand it to her when he said, “Wait a second. I don’t want you to ruin your voice.” He flashed that wicked smile again, and she felt the anxiety that had left her for the past few minutes come flooding back. “Because you lost our bet, you see.”  
She gave a sharp, quick laugh. “How do you figure?”  
“When we were dancing, I had way more than you.”  
“No way!” she said.   
“Yes way,” he said. “When we left, I had finished all but a quarter of my drink. You still had half of yours.”  
She racked her brain, trying to remember if this was true. She could call his bluff, ask him to prove it somehow, but she was sure that any argument she could come up with, he would have something to say in return. And that he wasn’t going to let go of this until she sang him a song.  
She sighed, her jaw clenching. “Fine,” she said. He put the cigarette meant for her back in the pack, and put his own down on the table, standing up.   
He pulled out the chair across from him, and gestured to it. She began to sat down, but he shook his head. “No, no, no, you need a proper stage.”  
Cami rolled her eyes. “I don’t think so.”  
“Just do it. Please.”  
She rolled her eyes again, but sighed in resolve. Before she was going to do it, though, she was going to have another drink. She took another long pull from the bottle by the edge of the pool before she came back to the pulled-out chair. With a heavy sigh, she stepped up onto it as he held her hand to steady her. When she seemed stable and ready, he let go of her and sat down in his own seat.   
“Okay, what do you want to hear?” she asked.  
“Anything,” he said with a smile. He was so smug, and she hated knowing that he was gloating because he’d gotten her to do this.  
“Happy or sad?” she said.  
He thought for a moment while he took another drag on his cigarette. “Sad,” he said at last.  
She racked her brain for a good sad song to sing. “Okay, I think I’ve got one. But I warn you, it’ll break your heart.”  
“Already broken,” he said. And then he gestured for her to begin.   
“The ship was sinking, we were drinking, singing one last song  
casting our gold into the ocean  
You grabbed a bucket, started screaming come on, come on  
Let's try and slow the downward motion

Back in the kingdom we were kings and queens and oh so strong  
That God himself could not contain us  
We never thought we'd be the shorter end of sword and gun  
Now God himself can never save us

Waves of silver, waves of gold are coming down to take me  
Separate my body from my soul and Jesus either leaves or takes me  
Hopes of heaven, fears of hell and what's the chance I'll make it  
When all my other plans have failed and I have tried so hard to fake it

We started sinking, drinking water from the open sea  
Losing our bodies to the ocean  
You grabbed my hand and started screaming, rescue me  
Together fight the downward motion

Back in the kingdom we were kings and queens and oh so free  
That God himself just had to show us  
We never thought we'd be the colder side of land and sea  
But he's the only one who knows us

Waves of silver, waves of gold are coming down to take me  
Separate my body from my soul, and Jesus either leaves or takes me  
Hopes of heaven, fears of hell and what's the chance I'll make it  
When all my other plans have failed and I have tried so hard to fake it ” 

It wasn’t really a song suited to be sung a capella, but it was the saddest one she could think of at the moment. She had missed a few notes here or there, but overall, she thought it sounded pretty decent. She studied his face carefully, trying to gauge his reaction, but his expression gave no indication of what he thought.  
The next few moments passed in silence with her looking down at the ground and him staring at her, the cigarette motionless in his hand. At last, he said, “Thank you.”  
Cami stepped down off the chair. “I need another drink.” Retrieving the bottle, she took another long pull, just like she had before she’d started singing. She took his lack of reaction to mean that he’d hated it, that she’d done a bad job. Setting the bottle back by the edge of the pool, she sat down, her feet dangling into the water.   
She heard him sit down beside her, and he took a swig of the whiskey. “That was beautiful,” he said.  
“You don’t have to patronize me.”  
“I’m not,” he said indignantly. When she looked over at him, he had his hands raised, proclaiming his innocence. “Promise. You truly do have a lovely voice. I should thank my lucky stars that you’re a lightweight, otherwise you would not have lost the bet, and I would not have heard that song.”  
“I am not a lightweight!” she said, snatching the whiskey bottle from where it was poised at his lips.   
She took another drink from it, this time relishing the taste of the bitter liquid because now she could taste the place where his lips had touched the rim of the bottle. Or at least, she imagined she could.   
When she had swallowed the swig, he took the bottle back from her gently. “Let’s not test that theory too enthusiastically,” he said. He set the bottle behind them and then looked at her, studying her carefully.   
This time, where she would usually look away, abashed, she stared back. A little voice inside her told her not to be scared, not to break eye contact with him. Be brave. She watched the way his eyes were locked on hers, watched the way the rippling light from the water played across his face, watched the way his lips parted slightly as his tongue ran across them.  
And then he was brushing the wet hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. His hand lingered there, his thumb tracing down her cheek. In spite of herself, her eyes closed; she felt like she was melting into a liquid as sloshy as the water in the pool, as the whiskey in her stomach. And when she opened her eyes again, he was leaning in…

Sunlight was streaming into the living room, burning as it hit her eyelids. Everything hurt. Her head was pounding; she felt like she was in one of those old Roadrunner cartoons, and she was Wile E. Coyote, who had just gotten an anvil dropped on his head. It took her a few minutes of being awake, her eyes still closed, to mentally prepare herself to open them and face inevitable pain that would come with.   
Sure enough, when she opened her eyes, the pounding in her head increased tenfold. She fought the urge to groan. Slowly, she moved her head around, squinting as her eyes adjusted, trying to gain her bearings. Nothing was coming back to her from last night, the last thing she could clearly remember was sitting next to him beside the pool after she’d sung the song for him. Had they kissed after that? Had they done more? She was drawing a complete blank.   
Cami looked down at herself and was surprised to find that she was actually more fully clothed now than she had been from the last thing she remembered from that night. She recalled being in only her bra and underwear then, and now she was wearing an incredibly soft set of pajamas which definitely didn’t belong to her.   
She was laying on the couch, she knew that much for sure. But as she slowly sat up, fighting the urge to vomit, she found that she had been laying her head in someone’s lap. And that the person attached to that lap was still sound asleep.   
Her nausea increased exponentially as her stomach dropped into her feet. Had she slept all night like that? Had Klaus said that that was alright, or had she just thrown herself onto him in a disgusting and desperate manner?   
As she relaxed slightly, her stomach growing calmer with each passing second, she studied him closely. For an immortal with supersonic hearing, she was surprised that he hadn’t woken up yet. He too was wearing more clothes than he was from the last thing she remembered last night. He had on a pair of flannel pajama pants, and she watched as his tummy rose and fell with each breath beneath the fabric of his long sleeve henley.   
Cami brushed her hair out of her face and wiped her eyes, cringing as she saw the mascara smudges on the back of her hand. She was sure she looked a mess.   
As quietly as she could, she got up from the couch, hoping she wouldn’t wake him in the process. She desperately didn’t want to leave, it was fascinating to watch him sleep, but it was more important to her to make sure she didn’t look like a clown with melted face paint.   
She knew she was in a parlor on the second floor, and knew there had to be a bathroom around here somewhere, she just hoped she could find it without puking first. Moving and walking seemed to have made her nausea return, so she reminded herself that she should drink a full glass of water when she got to the bathroom.   
There was one at the last door on the right. She closed and locked the door behind her, keeping the light off. She ran the cold water in the sink, scooping handfuls of it into her mouth and alternately splashing it onto her face, rubbing away the black streaks of mascara that had started to run. She sprinkled some of the water into her hair, smoothing it against her head. After a few more gulps of water and one last rinse of her face, she stepped back to take a good look at herself in the mirror. Disaster. That’s all she could see. Dark circles, remnants of last night’s makeup, bloodshot eyes, a distinct green tinge from feeling like she might puke at any given moment.  
She desperately rifled through the medicine cabinet, the various drawers at the sink, looking for anything that might make her look less nasty. Crestfallen, she came up empty handed, although she wasn’t quite sure what she was expecting to find in the first place. She would just have to pluck up her courage and go back out there.  
When she came back to the parlor, he was still sleeping. In comparison to how rough she looked, he looked perfect, his face serene. It was amazing to see him so vulnerable, the supposed Big Bad Scary Hybrid sleeping and dreaming and lightly snoring just like anybody else. And she felt even worse because she knew she looked horrendous in comparison.  
If she could leave now without him seeing, she would. But she knew her apartment was too far to walk. She could call a cab, but she’d have to go get her purse and her phone, and she didn’t know where they were. Downstairs, she realized, still by the pool.   
She crept downstairs, across the house to the back door. Flashes of the night were coming back to her now, milliseconds of scenes that she could see play out before her. Klaus taking her back inside, his laugh, the smell of whiskey on his breath. But she still couldn’t remember exactly what they’d done, if they’d done anything at all.   
On the pool deck, her dress was still crumpled up in a pile on the ground, her shoes not far away from it. She stepped out into the morning air, grabbed her clothes and her purse before heading back upstairs for the bathroom. She took off the foreign pajamas, folding them neatly and setting them on the counter before stepping back into her dress. Her feet were still aching from wearing them the night before, so she was going to carry them for as long as possible.   
She took the pajamas with her as she returned to the parlor. “Good morning, sunshine,” Klaus said. She was startled to see he was awake, hoping that she’d have even just a second more of watching how beautiful he was when he was asleep. And then she was glad he was awake because she felt incredibly creepy for thinking that.   
Pangs of jealousy hit her as she took him in; he looked completely fine, like he hadn’t just had a night of intense heavy drinking and had instead spent the night drinking cocoa and going to bed at eight thirty. “Good morning,” she said.   
“Do you have time for breakfast? I make a wonderful eggs benedict.”  
She thought about it for a minute; she wanted nothing more than to watch him cook, to have him eat breakfast with her, to spend more time with him. But she really had to go to work today, and she desperately needed a shower and a change of clothes.   
“I should really get going,” she said apologetically. “Rain check?”  
He smiled. “Sure. Let me get changed and we’ll get going.”  
She sat on the couch as he got up and left the room, taking the time to check her phone. There was a message from Davina. I’m sorry I was so critical of you last night, it said, Just want you to be careful. You’re smart, Cami, I’m just worried about you.  
Cami knew that the witch meant well, but her impulse was to reply with a Go f*ck yourself. Instead she replied with nothing because there was really nothing else to say.   
Klaus came back a few minutes later, wearing the same shirt he had been earlier and a pair of jeans. “Ready?” he asked, car keys in hand. She nodded and stood, still carrying her shoes.  
The entire drive back to her apartment was in complete silence. Since she couldn’t remember anything about last night, she wasn’t sure what to say. She wanted to ask what had happened, but she would be mortified if he replied with a smug, “You don’t remember?” She closed her eyes and tried to come up with anything that might come back to her, still coming up mostly empty. And he sure didn’t seem to be willing to offer any clues as to what might have gone on.   
Her stomach was still churning as they drove, partially from the car’s movements and partly from nerves. She wished she could calm herself, that she didn’t feel so anxious. Because she couldn’t stop hoping that when they pulled up in front of her apartment, he would kiss her, and that even if they had kissed last night, she could count this as their first one.   
Her apartment building came into view, and the car rolled to a stop in front of the front steps. So far, she had been avoiding looking at him, but she turned to him. “I had a really nice time last night,” she said.  
“I did too,” he said. But he wouldn’t look at her, he just stared straight ahead.   
“So….I guess I’ll see you soon. Right?” she added hopefully.   
She stared at him longingly as she waited for a response. Look at me, tell me you’ll take me out again, lean in and kiss me, acknowledge me in any way shape or form please.   
His eyes darted over to her before returning to the street in front of him. She slowly reached for the door handle, hoping to stall for as long as possible. I should just go ahead and kiss him. She gathered up her shoes in hand and pulled on the handle, about to open the door. It happened so suddenly that she wasn’t sure it had happened at all, but he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. When she looked back at him, he was sitting in the exact same position as before, almost as if it never happened.   
All the color drained from her face, except for a spot of bright red blush from where his lips had touched her cheek. “Right…well…” she said under her breath, because she wasn’t sure there was anything else to say.   
And so Cami got out of the car and walked barefoot up to her apartment. And she went into the bathroom and turned on the shower to the hottest setting. For the second time in twelve hours, her dress dropped to her ankles as she stepped into the water. She sat down on the floor of the tub and let the water soak into her. But inside she felt shaken and fragile, covered in a layer of drunken grunginess that she really didn’t want to wash off because somewhere beneath the scent of whiskey and chlorine, Klaus’s scent still lingered on her. 

It was hard to pay attention at work now. Whenever she poured another drink for someone, she thought of how she’d poured a drink for herself the night before, and then another and another. And every time she brought out a plate of fries or a burger, her stomach churned with the reminder of just how much she’d had to drink.   
“You look a little worse for the wear,” Vincent said. He was occupying his usual seat at the bar. She was hoping that the shower and the few aspirin she’d taken a few hours ago before she left the apartment had helped her disheveled appearance, but apparently they hadn’t.   
“I had a wild night of partying,” she said, meaning for it to be sarcastic. But it had turned out to be true.  
“Oh really? Girls night out?”  
All the color drained away from her face. If she told the truth of who she’d been with, would he give her a hard time like Davina had? She’d already told him that she had complicated feelings for Klaus, but she still couldn’t get a good reading on his reaction to that. “I had a date, actually,” she admitted.   
He raised his eyebrows, and then his eyes flashed with knowing. “Ah, and what was it like to go on a date with a so-called ‘monster’?”  
“…I’m not sure. I had a nice time, up to a point,” she said.  
“And then?” Vincent said.  
“And then…I don’t remember,” she admitted, not meeting his eyes. She still felt so ashamed of this. She wanted so desperately to remember the details of the later hours of that night, to remember if they had kissed, what it had felt like… “I had a lot to drink,” she explained.  
“Ah,” Vincent said. “Well, do you think you’ll go out again?”  
“He said he’d take a rain check for breakfast sometime. But then when he was driving me home, he wouldn’t look at me at all.”  
Vincent sat back and waited for her to look up at him. “Cami, he’s a temperamental creature. I see you stressing over there, worrying about what he thinks about you, when practically the entire city knows that he likes you. He will come around, he’s just…wrestling with his inner demons or whatever brooding bullsh*t he wants to call it.”  
Cami blushed and looked away again. It was just so easy to get caught up in that thought cycle of He seems to like me but how do I know if he really does or not, I don’t know, let me stress about it for the next twelve hours.   
“What did you all do?”  
“He took me to an art gallery first, and then it got very stuffy, so we went to a dive bar, got drunk, got drunk food, and then went back to the plantation house to go swimming.”  
Vincent raised his eyebrows suggestively, giving her a teasing smile. “Ooh, did you…?”  
“I—”  
The door to the bar pushed open with enough force to bang against the wall. Klaus walked in, a look of determination on his face. “I need to speak with you,” he said in a low, urgent voice. “Now.”  
“Sure, okay,” Cami said. Vincent gave her a worried look, and she was sure she couldn’t hide her own expression of distress. Her stomach had dropped into her feet, and she wasn’t sure what was wrong, she just knew she wasn’t going to like it.  
Klaus followed her as she stepped away from the bar, leading him through the kitchen to the back door, where they stepped outside into the fading afternoon light. They waited for the cook to finish his cigarette before she turned to face him, searching his eyes which were clouded over with some unfathomable expression. “What’s wrong?”  
He seemed agitated, shifting from foot to foot, his hand fidgety. “What is it?” she said, because he didn’t seem like he was about to say anything any time soon.   
“I…” he was still fidgeting, moving around, looking anywhere but at her. Finally he looked up, his eyes locking with hers. “I can’t see you anymore.”  
She felt like she was going to puke. Every part of her body grew cold, goosebumps raising on her skin, a shiver running through her. Had she done something terrible, horribly embarrassing during the lost hours of last night that she couldn’t remember? “Why?” she asked dumbly, hoping it didn’t come out as whiny as it had sounded to her.  
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”  
“What a stellar reason,” she spat. If he was going to dump her, or stop seeing her, or whatever this was, it had better be a better excuse than that. “Now what’s the real reason.”  
His eyes dropped away and he seemed to be wrestling with the right words. After a long moment of silence, she decided that all the anger bubbling up in her should be unleashed, that hopefully it would get him to tell the truth. “After all that we’ve been through, after everything that has happened to us and between us, I think you owe me an explanation.”  
He smiled in that, You’re Just Unbelievable sort of way and she knew that had done the trick. “Sweetheart, I do not owe your or anyone anything. And there is no ‘we’ or ‘us,’ there never was and never will be. That’s what I came to tell you. That you are sadly under the wrong impression about me, and seem to mistakenly believe that I have some sort of special feelings for you. Allow me to dispel the rumors and tell you I feel nothing of the sort.”  
She was shaking now, she couldn’t believe this was really happening. But underneath all her anxiety, underneath all the thoughts that had been screaming doubts at her, she really did know that he wasn’t telling the truth. “You’re lying,” she said.   
“Try me,” he said.  
She took a step closer to him, feeling her own stomach tense. And she could see his jaw clench, and she knew that if she kissed him now that he would kiss back, and that she was right and he was lying. “Tell me the truth,” she said, emphasizing each word.  
He rolled his eyes. “Fine, you want to know the truth?”  
“Yeah, I think I deserve it, don’t you?”  
“Fine, the truth is that I am one of the most powerful, ruthless, and deadly creatures to ever live. And even speaking to you now puts you in danger.”  
“That’s what this is about?” She felt like they’d already had this argument twenty thousand times. “I may be a human, but I’ve been involved with the supernatural world for years and I have survived this long.”  
“Yes, you’re a human for now, and you think you’re strong because you’ve continued to stay alive, but one day you will see just how much you are in over your head. And then you will ask me what every human asks of me and—”  
In spite of herself, she actually started laughing. “I can’t believe this. You’re scared that I’ll ask you to turn me into a vampire, and that’s why you don’t want to see me anymore? In case I haven’t made this abundantly clear by now, I like being human, and I want to stay being human. Or are you scared of that too?”   
He stared at her in silence, and she realized she was right about that too. “Why is it that everything has to be a war for you? I don’t get it…you’re scared that I’ll either ask you to make me a vampire, or that I won’t and then I’ll grow old and die. Why do the stakes have to be so high for you? Why can’t we just spend time together, and enjoy that?”  
“Because you and I both know it will be more than that.”  
She closed her eyes to take that in for a moment, let it really sink in and process it. She knew he had been lying when he said there were never any feelings between them. Of all the cryptic things he’d said to her about his feelings, this by far was the clearest. He had all but said that he was going to fall in love with her.  
“So let go of control and just let it happen,” she said, taking a deep breath. She opened her eyes to see his reaction. And he was gone.

For the whole rest of the day, she stewed and came up with perfect responses to everything he’d said. She thought of every vile name she could call him, every button she could push to get him mad, everything she could say to convince him that he shouldn’t run away.   
Vincent had tried to ask her what Klaus had said to her, but she kept her mouth shut about it, instead internalizing everything Klaus had said and remembering the part where he had said that they would be more than something casual.   
She thought back to the time that he had said he would have found her, that they were basically destined to meet. And when she thought of that, and thought of what he’d said to her earlier in the day, she knew that even through all the doubt that so often filled her mind, he did care for her and he did want to be with her.   
And so at two in the morning, when she’d closed up the pub, she walked to the compound.  
The downstairs was empty, but she stood and looked around, waiting to see if anyone upstairs had heard her come in. When no one appeared, she started shouting. “Klaus!” It took her calling his name four times before he appeared at the bannister, leaning over the railing.  
“It’s only two in the morning, but by all means, feel free to wake the entire neighborhood,” he said. And he flashed that smug smile that made her even angrier than she already was.   
She trudged up the stairs, stomping out each step like an angry child throwing a tantrum.   
“I thought from our discussion earlier today that I made it clear that it was ill-advised for us to see each other anymore. Coming here so late at night seems rather counterproductive to that point,” he said.  
She was face to face with him now. “Or, how about you tell it like it really is. What happened earlier today was not a ‘discussion,’ it was you talking at me for five minutes and giving me no choice in the matter. And I think I should have a say in this, don’t you?”  
“Haven’t we already had a discussion on boundaries, Camille? If I say that I don’t want to be seeing you anymore, you must respect my boundaries and leave me alone.”  
“See, I would do that, if I truly believe that that’s what you really wanted.”  
Again, he smiled that exasperated, I can’t believe this is happening smile. “Go on, then, proceed to tell me all about what I want. I’m curious to know.”  
“I think you do want to be with me. And I think you’re too much of a coward to even admit it to yourself, let alone do anything about it.”  
“Oh yes, I, Klaus Mikaelson, an immortal who’s known the world over for his ruthlessness, am terrified of one human woman,” he said, rolling his eyes.  
“The fact that you’re deflecting right now just tells me how right I am.” Cami’s adrenaline was pumping now, and she was prepared to say whatever it would take to get him to spit out the truth and admit that he was trying to get rid of her because he was scared.   
“Oh please, Camille, don’t patronize me with psychoanalysis.”  
“Then just tell me the truth!” she shouted. She was sure her face was red with anger now, and she couldn’t contain her volume any longer. She just wanted him to be honest with her, now when it was more important than any other time, and she would push any button she had to in order to get him to that point.   
“You want to know the truth? Yes, the truth is that I am scared. I am scared to get closer to you because of how strongly I feel for you. I’m scared that being close to you could put you in danger— it already has, multiple times. I’m scared of losing you, and that is a very strong possibility if I get closer to you.”  
She was not expecting the truth to come out so soon; she’d had another several inflammatory accusations planned to say to him in order to get it out of him, she wasn’t expecting that he would give up the game so easily.   
It took her a minute to process what he’d said and come up with a response. “Have you ever considered that I can be brave enough for the both of us?” She was kind of bluffing at this, but she was hoping he couldn’t tell.   
Klaus wouldn’t look at her. She stepped closer, willing her heart to stop beating a million miles a minute, giving away how nervous she was. Again, she felt that magnetic pull towards him like she had when they’d spoken earlier at the bar. “I know you’re scared,” she said, “and I am too. But I know that if we give this a chance, I won’t regret it. I am just a human, and I want to stay that way, but I am smarter and stronger than I look. People continually underestimate me, don’t you be one of them.”  
“I don’t underestimate you,” he said, still not meeting her eyes. “But if I ever lost you…”  
“Stop thinking that far in the future. Think about now, how you feel now. Because if it’s anything like how I feel, then you wouldn’t think twice about it.”  
Finally he looked up at her. “It’s not that simple. I can’t just let go of the fears that plague me.”  
“Then let me make you forget them. Let me in. Let me…”   
And Cami O’Connell decided she had to do something crazy in order to get through to him. Her hands grasped at the collar of his shirt, closing her fists around the fabric as she pulled him closer and smashed her face to his.   
She didn’t know if this was their first kiss or not, but it didn’t matter. If they had kissed the night before, this one was much better, not just because she could remember it, but because this one wasn’t sloppy with drunkenness or tainted with the bitter taste of whiskey. His lips were warm, solid and unmoving against hers.  
He stood there for a long moment, unmoving, his arms at his sides as she held him to her. And then he was kissing back, his lips closing around her lower lip, cupping her face in his hands.   
All the anxiety she felt, all the nervousness melted away and Cami knew that she had been right all along, that she could convince him to see that they should be together. When his tongue darted out of his mouth, running along her upper lip, she felt like she might pass out. She had never before been kissed like this, she had never felt like she could keep kissing someone all day and that she might die if she stopped.   
Her lips parted as he continued kissing her, his tongue edging past her teeth. And all she could think was I knew it.   
His hands moved from her face as his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her body against his. She felt a flush of warmth rush through her as she released the collar of his shirt, her fingers running through his hair. He pulled back for a second and she could feel him smile against her lips, and she smiled back, fighting the temptation to say, “I told you so.”   
She loved the way his lips felt against hers, the warmth of his mouth, the way he sucked her lower lip in between his teeth. She felt herself moving backwards as he guided her towards his room. His breath was coming out in short huffs, his hands balled up in the hem of her shirt, and she smiled again because she knew she had been right and she knew that he had wanted her all along.   
His room was dark, and they couldn’t see anything, but he closed the door behind them and then pressed her against it, hitching her leg up around his hip. Her fingers closed up in his curls, pulling, her stomach doing flipflops at the sound of the soft groan escaping his lips. When his lips moved away from hers, kissing the expanse of her neck, she found herself making similar noises.   
They both knew now that there was no going back, there was no more denying that they had feelings for each other. His arms felt like home to her, and she hoped that with each kiss, she was proving all of his arguments wrong. She hoped that he felt safer with each passing moment, and that he could see, just like she did, that this was supposed to happen. He had once said that if they hadn’t met the way they had, he would have found her one way or another. And she believed that the same was true of their encounter now, that it would have happened one way or another. It was fated to happen. Because Cami knew that despite all his protestations and weak excuses, Klaus wanted her, and he wanted to be with her. This kiss proved it.


End file.
